


Broken Like Glass

by Sergeant_Sporks



Series: A Window to the Past [2]
Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons), Wizards: Tales of Arcadia
Genre: Blood, Child Abuse, Gen, Injury, Mild Gore, broken glass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:34:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29051463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sergeant_Sporks/pseuds/Sergeant_Sporks
Summary: Douxie's always been a bit clumsy. But it used to mean much bigger consequences than a lecture.
Series: A Window to the Past [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2128017
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	Broken Like Glass

Douxie grinned at Archie. “Can you believe it?! An actual apprenticeship! With an actual wizard!”

“We’ll see how it goes.”

“I’m going to be a master wizard!” Douxie flung his arms out. “Me- oops!”

His gesture had knocked over a small glass bottle, and he fumbled to catch it, ultimately failing and watching in horror as it tumbled to the ground and shattered with what seemed like an ear-splitting crash.

“Oh, no!” Douxie stepped backwards, then yelped as he stepped on a piece of glass.

“HISIRDOUX?!” Merlin half-groaned, half-yelled from another room.

Douxie knelt down, struggling to scrape all the glass up into his hand before the wizard came in. The glass tore at his hands, and he winced, holding back more yelps of pain as the shards dug into his skin.

Douxie dropped a small glass bottle he was supposed to be taking to wash, and it shattered on the ground. He yelped, dropping down and trying to pick up the pieces before—

xxx

“HISIRDOUX!”

Douxie bounced to his feet, holding a handful of broken glass. “Fenlock! I’m sorry, I dropped it, I’m cleaning it up, I promise—”

Fenlock stormed into the room. “You think glass grows on trees?!” he yelled, and Douxie ducked to avoid a heavy blow. “You think I can just replace everything you break?!”

“I’m sorry, I—”

Fenlock grabbed the front of his shirt, dragging him forward and up until only his tiptoes were touching the ground. “You better start learning to fix the things you break, boy, or you’re going to be out on the street!”

Douxie glared at the ground. “Better than living here with you,” he muttered under his breath.

“What did you say?!”

Douxie’s eyes widened. He’d thought he’d been quiet—“N-nothing!”

Fenlock gave him a shake. “Better be nothing!” He threw Douxie backwards, and the boy skidded backwards on the broken glass, accidentally closing his fist around the shards in his hands. He cried out as the glass pierced his skin and blood welled out of a hundred tiny cuts.

“Clean up your mess,” Fenlock ordered, “Then just stay out of my sight!”

Douxie sniffled, biting his lip to keep from crying as he gingerly maneuvered off of the glass, not opening his clenched hand out of fear it would hurt worse. Tears ran down his face as he picked up the pieces he could see, depositing them safely in the bin. His bare feet found the pieces he couldn’t see.

Douxie limped, still snuffling, out to the yard. His black cat jumped down off of the window sill, purring comfortingly. Douxie sat down, and slowly unclenched his hand, biting down on his other fist to keep from screaming. The cat hissed, and Douxie glanced at his hand, fat tears of pain still rolling down his cheeks. Shards of glass were embedded everywhere in his hand, covered in blood. He pulled one out and dropped it on the step next to him, crying. He pulled out another one with a little cry of pain. It hurt _so much_! But the pile of glass next to him grew, until his slippery, blood-soaked hand pulled the last one out after a few tries. Douxie clutched his hand to his chest, crying quietly.

The cat rubbed against his side, rumbling a comforting purr. Douxie picked him up and hugged him, crying into his fur. Then he let the cat go.

“S-sorry,” he hiccupped, “I got—got blood in your—your fur. I’m s-sorry.”

The cat almost seemed to roll his eyes, butting Douxie’s leg gently with his head.

Douxie sniffled, pulling more shards of glass out of the backs of his calves and thighs, and the ones stuck in his elbows. Those didn’t hurt as badly, but they bled just as much.

“Owwwww.” Douxie twisted, trying to reach the pieces that had gotten in his back, but the twisting just cut him up more. He sniffed, swiping at the tears on his face and just getting blood on himself instead. Fenlock wouldn’t get the shards out, so where could he—

The cat jumped up behind him, and Douxie felt one of the shards get pulled out. “Ow!”

The cat mrowed at him, and then another one dropped into the pile. Douxie scrubbed at his face, still sniffing. His cat was…

The black cat came back around, swiping disdainfully at its snout, which was now stained red. Douxie hugged the cat again, startling him. “Thank you,” he whispered. He started to get up, then sat back down with a wince. Ow—he’d forgotten about all of the tiny pieces in his feet. He examined his feet, but couldn’t see anything except for a few little pinpricks of blood.

Douxie limped his way to the nearest well, earning a lot of stares and whispers from other people. He filled up a bucket and limped back home, dunking his feet in it, shivering at the icy cold shock. That should get it all out.

Douxie wiped his nose on his sleeve, wrapping his injured hand up in the bottom of his shirt. “Fenlock’s a big, f-fat, mean-f-face,” he sniffled to his cat, “I hope he”—sniff—“s-slips in a puddle and breaks his”—sniff—“h-hip. And then when—when he says ‘H-Hisirdoux, help me!” I’ll say n-nope! And—and run away. And I’ll find some nice people to be my—my parents.”

The dogs whined, and he limped over to them, patting their heads. “’m okay,” he lied, “Just some little cuts.”

There was a crunching sound from the door, and then Fenlock roaring “HISIRDOUX! YOU CLEAN THIS MESS ON THE STAIR _RIGHT NOW_!”

xxx

Merlin strode into the room. “Hisirdoux, did you break something?”

Douxie straightened up, standing awkwardly on one foot to avoid pushing the glass even further into his foot. “Um…”

Merlin peered at the mess, and waved a hand. The pieces of glass floated up, the ones in Douxie’s hand and foot included, and into a bin. Douxie winced, flinching backwards as the old wizard approached. “Are you alright?”

What? Douxie hid his hands behind his back. “Fine.”

One grey eyebrow rose. “Hisirdoux… hands.”

Douxie held his hands out, and Merlin sighed. “Goodness, boy, go to the infirmary. I can hardly expect my apprentice to learn anything if his hands are all sliced up, can I?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.” Douxie shot for the door before he could change his mind.

“Oh, and Hisirdoux?”

Douxie stopped. “Yes?”

“Do try to be more careful. There are some things in here that you really shouldn’t break, for your own safety.”

Douxie nodded, turning around the corner, followed by Archie. “So.”

“Yep.”

“Not even super mad.”

Archie shook his head. “Nope.”

“Just kind of vaguely exasperated.”

“Yep.”

“I thought that would be a lot worse.”

“Mhm.”

“You saw it too, right?”

“Yep.”

Douxie exhaled. “Wow.”

“To be fair,” Archie offered, “I’m relatively certain that’s closer to how _normal_ people react to people breaking things.”

Douxie grinned. “Right, well, what do _we_ know about _normal_?”

Xxx

“Whaaaaat are you doing.”

Douxie held an empty glass bottle up, a broom in his other hand. “I just… want to see.”

Archie raised one eyebrow. “You like setting yourself up for disaster?”

Douxie shook his head, frustrated. “I just… oh, never mind.”

He dropped the bottle, watching it break on the floor.

“Hisirdoux, what have you done now?!” Merlin called.

“I’m cleaning it up!” Douxie called back, sweeping up the glass.

Merlin poked his head in. “By the seven rings, AGAIN, Hisirdoux?! Do you have a coordination issue? How many staffs do you see?”

“Just the one,” Douxie replied cheerfully, dumping the broken glass in the bin.

“There wasn’t anything in there, was there?”

“No, master.”

“Good. Now for the love of magic, please don’t break anything else, because I’m certain that the next time you do, you’ll kill us all!”

Douxie barely waited for Merlin to turn his back before pushing another empty bottle off of the shelf. “Oops!”

“Hisirdoux!” Merlin groaned, whirling around. Douxie flinched as he moved his hand, but the wizard just threw them up in the air. “I’ve heard of having two left feet, but I’m beginning to think you were born with two left hands! Ah, leave it!” he ordered as Douxie started sweeping up the glass, “Just leave it before you break something else. Just go find something quiet to do. Something that involves _holding still_ and _not breaking anything_!”

The wizard turned to go, and Douxie shot Archie a big, confused, happy grin. “I think I’m going to like it here.”


End file.
